


Hurt

by NotAMidget



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Did I mention angst, I wroke this in one and a half classes including lunch, Jeremy is drunk and his SQUIP is shut off, Michael in the Bathroom, One Shot, Panic Attack, Sad, Sad Ending, he feels guilt, it's probably short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:48:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAMidget/pseuds/NotAMidget
Summary: What if Jeremy was the one knocking on the door in Michael In The Bathroom?Inspired by a Tumblr text post by artentuglad.





	Hurt

“Get out of my way, _loser,_ ” Jeremy spat, glaring at Michael, who returned his gaze with wide, brown eyes full of hurt. After a moment of stunned silence, Michael shuffled to the side, allowing his best friend to open the door and leave the bathroom.  
His _best friend_. Could he even call Jeremy his best friend anymore? Were they even friends anymore?  
Michael felt his eyes starting to well up with tears as he pushed his glasses up and tried to blink them away. He couldn’t let himself break down. Not here. More tears formed, and he rubbed his eyes. Not here, at what was probably the biggest party of the year. A tear managed to escape from Michael’s eye and slid down his cheek. Not here, in this bathroom that wasn’t even his. Slowly, he sat down on the floor, scooting backwards until his back hit the wall.  
‘Anywhere but here,’ Michael thought, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in a tight hug and burying his face into his kneecaps. As music blared loudly outside, muffled by the bathroom door, as friends laughed, drank, smoked, and danced together all throughout the house, Michael finally allowed the tears to spill. He let the wave of anxiety, or sorrow, of guilt, to crash over him and swallow him whole. Like fragile glass, Michael finally broke.

At first, Jeremy felt satisfaction from insulting Michael as he began to walk away from the bathroom. He had released all of his pent-up anger, and he felt good, though a bit loopy from the alcohol he had consumed. The SQUIP had deactivated itself for the time being because Jeremy had been drinking. Jeremy figured that if it was on, it would be praising him for abandoning Michael.  
_Abandoning him_. When Jeremy really thought about it, it sounded really harsh. If the SQUIP was on, it probably would have told him that he had done the right thing, insulting Michael. It would have applauded him for it. He had done the right thing… _Right?_  
Then why did he feel so _wrong_?  
The sensation of guilt in the pit of Jeremy’s stomach grew, and he felt queasy. He stopped in his tracks and, hesitantly, looked over at the bathroom door, which was once again closed. Was Michael still in there? Had he left? Had Jeremy hurt him badly?  
It was hard because the alcohol had made his memory fuzzy, but Jeremy closed his eyes and tried to imagine Michael’s face when he had shot the insult at him. His deep brown eyes had been wide, almost as if he was afraid, and his mouth was gaping slightly. Jeremy’s insides churned even more at the thought.  
‘I _hurt_ him,’ he thought, his hands starting to quiver. He turned around completely and took a shaky breath, speed walking to the bathroom door as fast as he could. Jeremy navigated through the crowd of dancing drunk people. Faces he did and didn’t recognize passed him by as he pushed through to the bathroom, but he paid them no mind. When he finally reached the door, he practically collapsed on it. He curled his fingers into a fist and knocked on the door, before pressing his ear to the wood, listening for a response. Silence. Taking another shoddy breath, Jeremy drummed on the door again, a bit harder, and listened for any sound from inside the bathroom. Again, he heard nothing. Maybe there was nobody in there? However, when he tried twisting the doorknob and it didn’t move, he determined that it was locked. If it was locked, somebody had to be in there. He started hammering on the door with his fist. Still, there was no reply. He turned his head, and spotted a few of the partygoers in his grade staring at him oddly. Jeremy tensed, before looking back at the door again.  
What if it wasn’t even Michael in there? What if Michael had already gone home and Jeremy was just pounding on the door while a stranger was using the bathroom and scaring them? Or worse, what if it was somebody Jeremy knew? Like Rich? Or Jake? Or _Christine_?  
Or what if it was Michael, and he somehow knew that it was Jeremy who was knocking on the door, and didn’t want to answer the door because he hated Jeremy now, and-  
Jeremy continued to think of the worst possible scenarios and he took a few steps away from the bathroom door. Taking a deep breath, he turned and abandoned the door. ‘I shouldn’t have said that to him.’ Jeremy bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. 'I’m such an idiot,’ he thought, as he weaved his way through the crowd of high schoolers, away from the bathroom.  
What Jeremy didn’t know as he quickly evaded the door, was that Michael had just been about to twist the lock and push open the door. However, the silence discouraged Michael, who had just gathered himself enough to stand up, splash some water on his face, and walk over to the door. He allowed his hand, which lay on the golden knob, to slowly fall. He stepped back from the door, his heart rate picking up again, and the feelings of sorrow and betrayal doused him again. Trembling, he retreated to the corner, resuming his previous position. He sat down on the floor, hugged his knees, and buried his face into his knees as the tears began to rain down once again.  
‘I should have just stayed home,’ Michael thought, as he let out a stifled sob. ‘I’m such an idiot.’


End file.
